Your Right Words
by blacksilkrose123
Summary: Thirteen years, thirteen hours, thirteen days can make or break a person's heart. But whose will it be?


LABY FICtion

Your Right Words

by blacksilkrose123

©2008

disclaimer: shuts eyes real tight I wish I had the mind of Jim Henson, I wish I had the mind of Jim Henson, I wish I had the mind of Jim Henson, I wish I—

opens eyes, and Jareth shakes his head in shame Right. Grant all _her_ wishes and not _mine._ I see how it is. Anyway. Don't own it. On with the show.

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Sarah liked this little window.

She liked this little window because if she shoved her face far up against it, practically fogging up the panes, she could ignore what—or who—was in her peripheral vision. She could imagine herself free, with all those people, instead of being bound in here with it—or him. Ignorance is bliss. And it was her only ticket out of there, away from her little window, and out of Its—or his—ever constant and domineering reach.

The little window was now a thing of her past, as of thirteen hours ago. She now sat tucked gingerly in an enormous leather chair, curling around her and suffocating her freedom. But that nuisance was there, as always, by her side. It stood upright, one arm folded behind Its back, the other casually encasing her wrist within Its possessive grasp. And she nearly batted it away. Until she remembered where she was, and what she was here for. It, too, noticed her fidgety demeanor. And Its grin only grew wider, grip tightening slightly with the knowledge that she would never be able to tear herself away from It. No matter what they said, It would never go away.

"Miss Williams?"

"Yes?"

"In question of your mental assessment, have you…" the voice trailed off, uncertain and uncomfortable, but plunged on anyway. "Have your…visions…of this 'Goblin King' vanished?"

A hard swallow to choke back the flood of lies. She'd practiced them every day for the past thirteen years. "Yes. I can't even recall what he looks like. It's been so long." Sarah exhaled. Sarah inhaled. "I'm _glad_ he's gone."

That selfish hold on her wrist tightened, and for a moment she wondered if they would see her hand turn purple. But none of them noticed; they were too busy peering over spectacles and jotting down notes. Only one kept his eye on her. And he made It roar with rage. But of course, Sarah Williams was the only one who could hear It. She'd been the only one able to hear It—or him—for quite some time now.

She was discharged. But not before that Watcher, what was his name, Keagan? warned her softly he would check in within thirteen days to see how things were. Mentally, he claimed; but Its rumbling growl in her mind told her otherwise.

Sarah Williams dragged her feet over her doorway. She locked the doors and windows. She closed the blinds. And collapsed on her kitchen floor, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration and waiting for that stupid It to disappear. It followed her around like a blasted shadow, and she had begun wishing High Noon would never end.

"Really, Sarah, did you think it would be so easy?"

She groaned, fingers pressing harder. "You're not real."

"Come now," he tsked brusquely, "I expected so much more from the _true_ master of my Labyrinth. Where's the fight in you, Sarah Williams? Don't tell me a few years in solitary can degrade such a _fitting_ talent?"

"You're not real. He isn't real. There's no such thing. There's _no such thing_," she chanted, head rocking back and forth as she slammed her back against the refrigerator.

"Words cannot belittle my existence, dear girl."

But his face fell when he watched Sarah's realization dawn across her beautifully fading face. He hated the way she seemed to brighten at the thought. And her whisper scorched his ears. "They did once."

Jareth's eyes flashed dangerously. "Yes, and I loved you _once_, but _things change._" As if she had been whipped, Sarah jerked upright, wincing at his harsh cut.

He glared at her.

She glared back.

He folded his arms and leaned against the opposite kitchen island, preparing to settle in for a stare-down.

She pulled herself to her feet, crossed over to Jareth's side, opened a cabinet, pulled something out, slammed it shut, then drew a glass of water. The Goblin King's eyes narrowed grimly, lips pressed, until he realized what she was doing.

"_No!_" he roared, launching himself across the aisle at her. His gloved fingers pinched at her neck, allowing his other hand to clamp onto her open jaw. "Spit it out."

Sarah struggled with him, jerking her legs out to try to gain a better chance at escape. Jareth growled deep in his throat, hurling himself back and around until her back was digging cruelly into the refrigerator. His forearm pressed sharply against her throat while his full weight leaned into her, effectively keeping her still. His grip on her jaw tightened painfully so.

"Spit. It. Out. _Now._"

She managed to clamp her teeth shut, locking the pill within her mouth. Her eyes gleamed with victory. But Jareth just seethed.

"Would you prefer I physically remove it, _little girl?_" And Sarah glowered. Jareth could feel her working her mouth as she prepared to swallow. He muttered a low oath, leaned further against her throat, and pinched her nose shut, cupping her mouth in the process. Sarah's eyes widened, and after a few more rebellious seconds ticked by, she faintly nodded.

The pill was in his hand before she could take back her actions, and Sarah found herself doubled over on the floor, coughing and sputtering madly for air while Jareth ignored her, shrewdly inspecting the tiny capsule in the palm of his gloved hand. He shook his head in disgust and rinsed it down the sink's drain, hovering over and watching the water swirl to nothing. "Remarkable. And I thought iron was my _only_ kryptonite."

Sarah exhaled loudly. "Fae read comic books?"

Jareth permitted a pointy-toothed grin. "We have our few mortal luxuries."

"No way."

"Lex Luther ring a bell?" Jareth drawled, his grin spreading wider—if at all possible.

"No freakin' way."

"Come, come, Sarah. Must I resort to Bruce Wayne?"

Sarah groaned, leaning heavily against the cabinets. "Okay, I get your point."

Jareth nodded in approval of her consent, settling himself back in his former position against the island's counter. He watched her for a moment, before taking the bottle of pills into his own gloved fingers, lazily gazing at the contents and wording. His eyes slipped over the rim every now and then to take in Sarah—how she had changed for the worst.

Self-conscious, she pulled her hair back into a rough ponytail, then exhaled loudly. "Jareth—"

"Sarah."

She frowned, trying to continue once more. "Jareth—"

"_Sarah_."

"Yes, we've established a name-to-name basis. But will you shut up and listen to me?"

His eyebrows rose in mock hurt. But he remained silent.

"I need those."

"Somehow, I think you'll get by," he remarked dryly, dangling the bottle a ways in front of him.

"No, you don't understand—"

"I understand _perfectly_," he circled the island, eyes always trained on her. "One little capsule and you kiss me goodbye; figuratively speaking, of course." His grinned madly, but something screamed at Sarah that this was no joking matter on his behalf. "But I don't believe you truly want that. Do you?"

On impulse and sheer adrenaline high, Sarah lunged at him, fingers stretching for that tiny green bottle in his fingers. And just as she reached him, her hand closed on air. The bottle was gone. And Jareth was gripping her wrists hard, clearly no longer amused.

He slammed her back against the wall. "I'm tired of these games, little girl. _Answer me._ Do. You. Want. That?"

"_Yes_."

He pulled back then shoved her against the wall even harder. "Say it, Sarah."

"_I want you gone, out of my life, forever._"

There was a moment when Sarah swore pain flickered across his mismatched eyes, when she could have sworn she saw his entire world fall down and crumble within those beady pools of hate and passion. But in a moment, it was gone, and Jareth was Jareth. He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Forever is such a long time, precious thing."

"Not nearly long enough, when it comes to you," she spat.

"Then say it again, but the _right_ way. The only way."

Sarah's bravery wavered. Her hesitation was enough. "I wish…"

The Goblin King's upper lip curled in livid rage, but he didn't stop her—wouldn't stop her. "Yes. _Go on._"

"I wish you…you—"

"Me, me, _me_," he mocked, gloves digging impossibly into her skin. "Quit stuttering and say what you mean to say, child. Words are ever so powerful. _You cannot take them back._ So go ahead—cure yourself of me. But know this. There are no remedies for what you've done—what you will do—to me. _I_ will not forget. Make no mistake of that." He released her, crossing his arms once more, waiting.

But Sarah just stared at him, mouth open, eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights.

"Catching flies, Sarah?"

She clamped it shut, but her eyes remained round and frightened.

"Well?"

And Sarah Williams shook her head—once, twice, three times.

"_Say it, _Sarah. I just want you to _say it_ to my face. I want to see yours as you damn me to hell."

She grit her teeth, grounding them together. "No."

"Do _not_ defy me. And don't you dare deny your wants and desires, Sarah. I give you this one last…present. One last dream come true." His fingertips pulled a crystal orb from thin air, twirling it, but in a sickeningly enraged way, no longer the fluid, calming motion.

"I don't want this."

"Oh, you don't, do you?" He laughed bitterly.

"I'm not going to do this just because you want that satisfaction, Jareth. I can't just erase my nightmares because you offer me that choice. I have to face them." She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and pulling herself up taller. "I have to face you."

"My, our little Sarah _has_ grown up, after all," he drawled, snapping the ball in his fingers and hurling it at the wall just to the left of her head. It shattered, crashing into a million pieces, into nothing. She flinched, but kept her footing.

"Tell me, Miss Williams, are you _afraid_?"

Sarah swallowed hard. "I am."

Jareth's eyes gleamed mysteriously. "Of me?" he sneered greedily.

"Of what you've become. Of what you've done to me. And of the only way to fix this." She glanced pointedly at the earlier cabinet she'd made a withdrawal from.

But he only rolled his eyes. "I can make them disappear just as quickly, Sarah. Your games are finished. So don't even bother."

"I thought you _wanted_ me to want you gone?"

His strength faltered. He kept quiet.

Sarah opened her mouth to throw more of his words back in his stricken face, but suddenly found that no air was rushing in or out. Pain grappled her chest, spreading to her limbs in a shaky win with her last strands of sanity. She screamed.

Jareth caught her as she fell, sliding down to the floor with his mortal tucked possessively in his arms. His lips were moving, shouting at her, demanding to know what was wrong—but she couldn't hear any of it. There was just that not-so-persistent echo of a drum in her head.

The Goblin King crushed his face to hers, cheek to cheek, feverishly whispering Sweet Nothings into her ears.

"Tell me how to make it go away, Sarah. Just _tell me._ Sarah, my sweet, my _Queen_, my…" his voice choked off with dry sobs.

Sarah's eyes finally settled on her King. She smiled half-heartedly. "Jareth. Jareth. _Jareth._ Do you know what's wrong?" Quiet, taunting, as if it were some riddle she were dangling before his face.

His gaze hardened. "Tell. _Me._"

"I'm dying, Jareth."

"_NO!!_"

"I'm dying of a broken heart." She gasped for air, curling into his side like the child she was. "I warned you."

"It was the medicine or me," he whispered in horror.

"You chose. _I chose._"

"No, I can fix this, Sarah." His hand waved and the bottle of pills popped into his hand. He jerked open the lid, holding several capsules in the palm of his hand. He tilted it to her lips. "Come on, open up, Sarah. _Open up, damnit!_"

But she just took her head. Smiling a sad smile. The one he'd fallen in love with so many years ago when she had _no idea_ what she was breaking.

And now, here sat the Goblin King, cradling his Sarah, gazing at her with an expression so enamored with emotions, realizing he had _no idea_ what he was breaking.

"Take me home, Jareth."

He nodded furiously, brushing a chaste kiss to her forehead. "Anything for you, you precious thing." His eyes became faraway and distant, focused on something else and yet exactly the same as Sarah.

And they were gone.

Thirteen days passed. The apartment was empty. The castle was vacant save one.

But what Keagan didn't know is that the Goblin King had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her his heart.


End file.
